


The Great Mix-Up

by fairyScorpicus, kraefandoms



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik has one braincell and he gave it to Charles, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Hurt Peter, Midnight conversations with Erik and Charles, Minor Hank McCoy/Raven | Mystique, Peter and Erik are both colorblind, Peter and Erik have the same blood type, Pietro Maximoff is a Little Shit, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), he stupid, i love him so much, minor peter whump, the goal is laughs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-05-02 05:11:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19192465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyScorpicus/pseuds/fairyScorpicus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kraefandoms/pseuds/kraefandoms
Summary: Erik knows Peter is related to him. All the facts are there: they have the same type of colorblindness, they have the same blood type, Erik's got it all figured out."Charles." Erik says, sitting up in his bed at three in the morning. "I've figured it out about Peter. I've connected the dots."Charles groans, not bothering to open his eyes as he uses his telepathy. "You haven't connected shit.""I've connected them!" Erik protests. "Peter is my nephew.""No."





	1. Chapter 1

They had defeated Apocalypse, and the X-Mansion had been rebuilt. Erik was wandering the halls when he heard a frustrated cry from one of the students' rooms. He stood outside the open door and looked in.

Peter was standing there, holding buckets of paint. The room he was standing in was Jubilee's. Erik had never seen such a look of exaggerated devastation on the speedster's face before. The silver mutant's face lit up when he caught sight of the metal bender.

"Erik!" he greeted. "Hey, could you lend me a hand?" Peter gestured at the paint as Erik stepped into the room. "Jubilee wants her room painted the same shade of yellow as her coat, but I'm colorblind and I don't know which paint bucket is the right shade."

"I can't help you there." Erik said. "I'm also colorblind." Peter looked surprised and nervous.

"Wow," he said. "What a coincidence..." he trailed off, and then groaned and put his head in his hands. Erik patted his on the back, amused.

"Colors are over-rated." he said. "Let's find Mystique. She can help us."

"No! It's supposed to be a surprise! She said that's what she wanted, and I wanted to do something nice for her, since, well, you know, she's so nice to everyone..." Peter shrugs. "And Raven would tell Jubilee. They're both part of the rumor mill here, you know."

"So you don't want me to tell Mystique." Erik said, amused at the concept of Mystique being at the head of the rumor mill, surrounded by children all excited in sharing information that they probably assumed was juicy gossip, when in reality, it wasn't that important.

"No. Also," Peter paused. "You know you're the only one who still calls her that, right?"

Erik shrugged. "It's what I'm used to."

"Anyways, what type of colorblindness do you have? I have the yellow-blue type, trita... trita..." Peter trailed off, lost in thought.

"Tritanomaly?" Erik supplied.

"That's the one!"

"Yeah, that's the one I have as well," Erik replied. "Although, I'm quite certain it's one of the rare types..."

Actually, Erik reflected, that really is odd that they both have the same type of colorblindness, especially since it's supposedly really rare.

"Wow, having the colorblind and mutant genes..." Erik said, amazed. "It really is a coincidence."

"Y-Yeah," Peter scratched the back of his head and smiled, though it seemed a little forced.

"Huh..." Erik said, unable to let go of the probability, and Peter interrupted his thoughts quickly.

"How am I going to figure this out? They both look the same color," Peter stared at the paint in dismay. Erik chuckled.

"Does Jubilee know you're color blind?" Peter looked horrified.

"Of course not! If she knew, she would tell everyone! Or she would tell Raven, who would tell Kurt and Jean and Ororo, and Jean would tell Scott, and Scott can't keep his mouth closed to sve his life! The whole school would know in the matter of minutes!"

"Matter of minutes?" Erik threw his head back and laughed without thinking. After a moment, he caught Peter looking at him, an unreadable expression on his face. "What?"

Peter shook his head quickly. "It's nothing! It's just that... you don't laugh a lot." Erik paused.

"Oh," he said, awkwardly, and Peter threw his hands up.

"No no no no, it's a good look!" Peter was making a mess of this conversation and they both knew it. "It's just... yeah." They went back to staring at the paints.

"Even if we held the jacket up against the paints, we still wouldn't be able to tell," Erik said, and Peter agreed mournfully.

"You're right..."

They fell into silence, staring at the paint.

"What are you two doing?" a new voice asked from the doorway. The two mutants spun around to see Kurt standing there curiously.

"Kurt!" Peter cried in relief. "You wouldn't tell a soul!" He gestured at the paints. "Come here."

Kurt entered the room slowly and looked at the paints curiously.

"Kurt, which one of these paints matches Jubilee's jacket the most?" Peter asked desperately. Kurt looked at the paints, and looked up at Peter, confused.

"i would think the yellow paint would match Jubilee's jacket the most, not the pink one?" Kurt said, confused. Peter and Erik stared at the paints, having been completely unaware that one of the paints was pink.

"I..." Peter said, at a loss for words. "One of them is pink?"

"The one on the right?" Kurt said, never feeling more lost in his life.

Erik stared at paints, feeling his will to live die rapidly. One look at Peter's face told the same story.

"Hey," Kurt said. "Can I use the pink paint for Jean's room? She's painting some big drawing on her wall."

"Sure," said Peter, quietly. Kurt took the paint on his right and left the room. Erik and Peter made eye contact.

"We will never speak of this again," Peter said, and Erik agreed.

\- - - - - 

"Did you know Peter and I had the same type of colorblindness?" Erik asked, laying in bed. Charles lifted his head from where he was sleeping next to Erik.

"No, I don't think so. Why?"

"It's just, it's really rare..."

"Go to sleep, Erik. Think of it in the morning."

"But Charles! The probability-!"

"No. GO to sleep!" Charles interrupted.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a simple mission. Go into the mutant fight club, release the mutants, get out. They just hadn’t counted on the entire building being covered in an electric field that limits all mutants’ powers.

The X-Men were trapped in a large cage, ordered to fight each other.

“Never,” Kurt declares. 

Scott tried blasting the wall, but the lazer bounced off the wall. Everyone ducked. It missed and hit the floor.

“Watch out!” Peter said, adjusting his goggles. 

Scott looked sheepish. “Sorry guys,” he said.

The X-Men stood in a circle, with Jean and Magneto on the outside, preparing to stop the incoming bullets that the men were prepared to fire should they not give a good enough show. Storm stood in between them, trying to use her powers to affect the electric force field. Charles, Raven, and Hank had not joined them on their trip, though Charles had tried to watch them from Cerebro. Which was a good thing, too, since Jean’s telepathy could not penetrate the force field, but Charles could, because he had Cerebro so he knew they were in danger.

With a cry, Storm summons her powers. She blasts her lightning at the wall. With a loud crackling sound, the wall flickers.

“I’m going for it!” Peter barks, and runs at the wall as it flickers.

Here was his plan: run at the wall, climb up and over it while it's flickering, so in the millisecond that it’s not electrocuting people, get free, take down the men with guns, turn off the power.

That is not what happened. Peter is halfway up the wall when the electricity works again, and-

Hank couldn’t figure out how fast Peter could run. Like, he could tell Peter to run a lap around the world as fast as he could, and Peter could do that in less than a minute, Peter thinks he could, no problem, but all the same, a lap around the Earth is crazy huge and Peter would make his feet hurt. So instead of running tests, Hank just made him really nice, comfortable, hard-to-break shoes.

But the electricity was easily faster than Peter.

With a yelp, Peter was flung off the wall and hit the ground on his back, knocking all the air out of him. The X-Men let out a shout of surprise and concern, but the men with guns started frantically firing on them and no one could get out from behind Jean and Magneto to ask if Peter was alright. The bullets whizzed past Peter, dangerously close. He slipped into super speed so he could catch his breath faster.

Fun fact, kids, getting the breath knocked out of you hurts. A lot. Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he couldn’t inhale, he could only exhale. He tried to speak, but only a groan came out. He couldn’t sit up, only lay there until the next thing he knew, he could breathe again. It hurt to breathe, but he didn’t care, desperately gasping for air with needy lungs.

When he was finally breathing normally, Peter looked up. The men with guns were, thankfully, ignoring him, and he was still in super speed. But he spent so much time laying there, even in super speed, that there was enough time for the men to practically drown the X-Men with bullets. Jean and Magneto were keeping them away, but it was painfully clear that there were too many bullets.

Chest aching, Peter ran forward, smacking the bullets out of the air. He ran in endless circles around the X-Men, diverting the bullets back at the men, albeit reluctantly and making sure that if the bullets hit the gunmen, it wouldn’t kill them.

But Peter was just electrocuted, and his lungs still hurt. Peter wasn’t as fast as he could have been, and the sheer number of bullets made Peter know he couldn’t win. He smacked the bullets away with his hands, his arms, his body as well as he could. His X-Men armor protected him from the worst of it, but the bullets did begin scrape across his arms. And then a horrible pain flashed across his shoulder. It was agony. He was hit. He remained in super speed, so his short cry before he clenched his teeth to prevent from yelling was too short for the X-Men to figure out what the sound was or where it was coming from. He pushed himself harder. A bullet scraped his side, and he faltered. Everything hurt. He paused, still in super speed, struggling not to cry out.

A movement caught his eye. A bullet was headed directly at Magneto’s head, but the metal bender had not noticed. Peter wobbled a few steps forward to knock the bullet out of the air, but his movement placed him in front of the pathway of another bullet. It hit him square in the leg, and Peter went down. As he fell, he slipped out of super speed mode. 

The X-Men cried out as Peter disappeared from his spot on the ground, the number of bullets flying at them paused for a solid minute as a blur surrounding them blocked them, and then they watched Peter go down hard.

Then Raven and Beast arrived, because good old Charles was watching over them like an angel. The two blue mutants burst through the front gates, charged at the men, and took them out. 

As they shut off the power to the walls, the X-Men crowded around Peter. 

“Peter?” Someone asked, voice blurry in Peter’s mind.

“Oh, he does not look good,” someone else murmured.

“We have to get him to the jet!”

“I’ve got him.”

Strong arms, safe arms gently picked Peter up. He couldn’t help it, the sharp stabs of pain caused by being moved caused him to groan.

“Sorry,” said the same voice that picked him up.

Peter rested his head on the armor - armor? But the only person who wore armor was… Magneto? Magneto was carrying him? What?

They moved, had been moving, but for some reason time doesn’t seem to be following the right rules, it was skipping around, sometimes too fast, others too slow, and it made Peter’s head hurt.

He’s not really sure what happened next. He vaguely remembered glimpses: Raven running to the cockpit to drive, being set down gently on a table, blue furry hands on a first aid kit, a worried face hovering over him.

“Does anyone know his blood type? He’s losing blood quickly,” Hank said.

Peter groaned, head spinning. He did. Of course he knew his own blood type. But he couldn’t seem to get his mouth to work alongside his mind, so all he could do was think.

“Be positive.”

Why the hell was Jean saying to be positive?

“Jean,” a tight voice said - ah, yes, Scott - voice almost shaking. “We’re trying to be positive.”

“No, it’s his blood type,” she replied.

Oh, Peter thought. Yeah, that was right.

“Alright, who else has B positive blood type?” Hank asked.

“I do.”

Huh. Magneto shared his blood type? Weird, Peter thought deliriously.

“Alright, your arm. We need blood for the transfusion when we get back to the mansion.”

“Of course,” Magneto replied softly.

And that’s all Peter remembered.

 

His body ached severely. Not cool.

His eyes opened, barely, to reveal Erik watching over him.

Oh. His dad.

He tried to say something, anything, but all he managed was slurred mumbling.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

Peter nodded, barely.

“It turns out we have the same blood type,” Erik says, smiling faintly.

Of course they did. Peter sure as hell didn’t get the blood type from his mom’s side of the family. They were all type O.

He tried to say something, anything, his head still fuzzy.

“Yeah, it’s cause, it’s cause,” Peter tried.

A knock at the door. It opened.

“Peter?” Charles says, smiling. “How are you feeling?”

Peter never replied. He had fallen back asleep.

“Shame. Looks like he needs a little bit more rest. Come on, Erik, it’s time for breakfast.”

Erik looks up at Charles. “He was about to say something. Do you know what?”

Charles smiles faintly. “You’ll find out, don’t worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's K Rae, and I hate that FS fucking writes in past tense like a noob.
> 
> Also, help me out? K Rae's Survey: https://forms.gle/3UBky2jn8RmFCPom8  
> Also, I (still K Rae) have a discord if you want to join it: https://discord.gg/gd4Exrg
> 
> \---if KRae adds a note, I am too  
> FS: oh no, if KRae is gonna advertise THEIR discord, then I gotta advertise MY dadneto discord (which has nobody in it no matter how hard I try ahahaha)  
> Here: https://discord.gg/zAJFRaM
> 
> Nobody:  
> Absolutely nobody:  
> FS: man i had this dream last night that the humans killed Charles Xavier and Magneto recruited all the X-men and I was Quicksilver and I was trying to make Magneto laugh and...
> 
> Nobody:  
> Absolutely nobody:  
> FS: Be positive! I'M TRYING!


	3. Chapter 3

Peter loved getting in trouble.

The part he hated was getting caught. And, for a speedster, Peter got caught a lot. He once joked to Raven that for the fastest man in the world, he always seemed to be too late. Of course that joke had to come bite him in the ass.

Which, of course, was how he ended up getting shot at by the police, again.

Normally, he walked it off. It was really easy to do when you didn't even get hit. Unfortunately, this time, he got distracted, which was also something really easy to do for Peter. It wasn’t his fault he had an attention span of a fly, right?

Nonetheless, Peter was distracted, and hey, bullets hurt when they hit you in the chest. And hey, you can’t run when bullets hit you in the chest. And  _ hey _ ,  _ you can’t breathe when bullets hit you in the chest. _

He panicked, as most people do when they can’t breath, one hand flying up to grip his chest, which hurt, and he managed to dart away from the police, several blocks away, and fell into some bushes. He tried to move, but that hurt, so he gave up. He lifted his hand, but there was something red on it. It was the hadf that had been gripping his chest, and it was covered in blood, which meant Peter was in serious trouble.

So here Peter was, in some bushes, bleeding, struggling to breathe, with no other X-Men in sight because, hey, maybe no one actually knew that Peter was out doing some nightly escapades?

  
“Peter!” someone called out in the distance. “Peter, where are you?”

 

Well, scratch what Peter just said, someone DID know.

 

"Over here!" He yelled, or at least tried to. He coughed up some blood instead.

_ What? _ He tried to move, to get up, to do anything, but found he couldn't. Panic filled him and his blood turn cold. He tried to call out for them again, but instead he made a strangled choking sound. Oh well at least I was loud, he thought 

 

"Peter?" He heard someone cry, and he heard footsteps approach and Erik's worried face filled his vision.

 

"Dad," he tried to say, but all that came out was "D-ehck" which frankly, was a disgusting sound to make but it wasn't really Peter's fault that he choked on his own blood midword, now was it?

 

“Holy shit,” Erik says. “Holy shit, damn, what did you do?”

 

Well, if Peter’s honest, he wanted Twinkies, and he got his Twinkies. In fact, they’re still in his pocket for the most part, though he did eat a few. But he’s not going to be honest, nope, he’s not going to admit to his dad-that-doesn’t-know-he’s-his-dad that he got shot shoplifting Twinkies.

Not that Peter could speak.

Erik crouched over him, hands fluttering around Peter’s chest, never touching him. So why did it still hurt anyways? Something metal shined in Erik’s hands.  _ Were those bullets? Where did Erik get those? _ Hank appeared by Erik’s side, looking upset and very blue.

 

“Erik, you idiot, why did you take the bullets out already? You’re just helping him bleed out faster!” Hank snapped, lifting Peter up. 

 

Being picked up and carried in any other instance is fun.

Being picked up and jostled around when you’re already in pain is not fun. 

Peter tried to cry out in pain, but only managed another wet gurgle.  _ Holy shit, was Peter going to die? _

Erik looked afraid, so Peter probably should be, too. He tried to call out for his dad again but failed. Erik gripped his hand.

 

“Don’t try to speak,” the older man said.  _ Why are his eyes so shiny?  _ Peter ignored him, and cleared his throat.

“Time to ‘be positive’,” Peter joked, and then coughed hard. He didn’t pay attention to the blood that sprayed out of his mouth. 

 

Erik’s face had something red on it. Oh god, did he just cough blood onto Erik’s face? That’s so disgusting, and embarrassing, oh my god. Peter tried to apologise, but failed.

 

Erik met his eyes, trying to seem calm although his eyes were filled with fear. “Stay awake.”

 

Peter did not stay awake. He woke up in a hospital bed underneath the X-Mansion (again). He lay there, staring at the ceiling, for several minutes before his brain woke up. As he stared blankly at the ceiling, he heard someone talking to someone else just outside the corner of his vision.

 

“His super speed allows him to produce blood faster than other humans, and most mutants. It’s amazing, really-” The voice was excited sounding.

 

“So you’re telling me that if he didn’t have superspeed, even without all the blood I donated, he would have died.” Someone interrupted, voice flat. There was a pause. Then: “Dammit, Hank, don’t call it amazing. He would have died. I can’t-” the speaker with the lower voice cut themselves off. There was a deep breath. When the voice resumed, it sounded broken. “I shouldn’t have started to consider him my friend. Everyone close to me dies.”

 

“Except Charles,” Hank offered meekly.

 

“Don’t tempt fate,” the gruffer voice, which Peter now identified as Erik, said sharply. “The universe just heard a dare.”

 

“No it didn’t, there’s no such thing as fate,” Hank replied immediately. 

_ Erik thinks of me as a friend _ , Peter thought suddenly. Then:  _ ouch, everything hurts. _ He groaned, and Erik and Hank ran over.

  
“Don’t get up,” Hank said, then ran around checking all the medical equipment attached to Peter. Peter ignored him and looked at Erik. He tried to think of something to say.

 

“You’re my-” he started to say, but Hank interrupted him and Peter felt really annoyed.

 

“Everything seems to be okay,” Hank said. “Can you take some deep breaths for me?” Peter complied sullenly, and by the time Hank left again, Peter had lost all his courage. Erik had sat through the entire examination silently, sitting on the seat next to Peter’s hospital bed. He looked at Peter closely. Peter nervously cleared his throat.

 

“Sorry for coughing blood onto your face,” he said finally, and Erik blinked.

 

“It’s okay,” Erik said. 

 

“No, it was gross and I wanted to apologize.” Peter protested, but Erik held up a hand, face dark.

 

“I’ve had men I’ve killed cough up blood on me before,” he said, and Peter froze. “And I’ve lived through worse things.”  _ God, this man is a walking minefield of triggers. I can’t say anything without fucking it up. _

 

“Oh,” Peter said, quietly. Then, to get out of this horrible conversation: “I should probably call my family.” Erik nodded, and held out his phone for Peter to borrow. Peter looked at the phone closely in superspeed before handing it back. The phone was a flip phone, easily disposable. “I don’t have my home phone number memorized,” he said sheepishly. Erik nodded to himself and got up out of the chair slowly. Peter wondered how long Erik had been sitting there.

 

“I’ll go get a phonebook,” The metal bender said as he left the room. Peter stared at the ceiling some more until Erik returned. “What’s the name?” he demanded as he flipped open the phone book.

 

“Marya Maximoff,” Peter said automatically, and then froze. Erik was frozen to, in the middle of flipping a page. There was a beat of silence. Then, Erik cleared his throat and continued flipping pages.

 

“I once knew a woman by that name,” he said quietly, and Peter wanted to beat himself over the head with how stupid he was being.

 

“What a coincidence,” The speedster managed to say. He made the phone call quickly, the volume of the phone quiet enough that Erik couldn’t hear his mother’s voice, and that was that.

  
  


 

 

That night, Erik and Charles were laying in bed, fast asleep. Erik woke up quickly, chest heaving. Charles woke up quickly as well, using his mind to calm Erik down.

 

“Shh,” Charles soothed. “It’s just a nightmare.”

 

“You and that boy are in danger by being close to me,” Erik said, not needing to say more to clue Charles in on what the nightmare was about.

 

“We have the X-Men and each other. We are safe. We are protected. It’s okay, Erik,” Charles reassured. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“Not quite yet,” Erik said, and the two lay there for quite some time. No one spoke for a long time, and Charles was about to check to see if Erik had fallen asleep again when Erik spoke, voice quiet in the dark.

 

“He has someone in his family whose name is Marya Maximoff,” Erik said, and Charles forced his muscles not to tense in surprise.  _ Was Erik going to put two and two together? _

 

“And?” Charles said hopefully.

 

“It’s probably nothing,” Erik said. “Goodnight, Charles.” and he dropped back into sleep.

 

Charles wanted to scream.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter arriving so late. I went on vacation for a little bit and when I returned, I finally knuckled down and finished off the chapter. -fairy
> 
> I have had killer writer's block, but I came up with the idea for the chapter. Props to Fairy for writing it (AND NOT TELLING ME THEY POSTED IT >:[ ) K Rae


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Enjoy the stupidity!

It’s been a quiet day at the X-Mansion for once. Almost too quiet, if you ask Erik, but Erik wasn’t going to complain. It gave him time to ponder something that was on his mind.

 

Clue number one: Peter had the same type of colorblindness as him. It wasn’t as if it was a common type of colorblindness. And didn’t colorblindness pass from father to son? It had something to do with the Y-gene, Erik knew for sure, it was why it was more common in guys than girls. For Peter to have the same type of colorblindness as him, well, if that were the only clue on his mind, he might have let it pass as coincidence. But it wasn’t. No, of course it couldn’t be.

 

Clue number two: Peter had the same blood type as him. Now, with only 8 blood types, this wasn’t that crazy either. But families shared blood types as well, and while B+ blood type wasn’t super rare, it wasn’t the most common blood type either.

 

Clue number three: Peter was a mutant. Well, that’s an obvious one, but Charles could talk on and on and on about how mutations passed down through generations, and he told Erik about how it was a gene passed down through fathers as well.

 

Clue number four: Peter knew Marya Maximoff. If Erik had paid much more attention, he probably could have made this conclusion sooner, based off Peter’s last name, but he didn’t always think things through.  In fact, Charles would probably say that Erik never thought things through, but Erik didn’t give much thought to that, either. And let’s face it, those four clues together meant something big, Erik was sure of it. He just had to figure out what it meant.

 

The realization comes to him later, and it hits him like a lightning bolt. Peter was related to him. Erik knew Peter was related to him. All the facts were there: they have the same type of colorblindness, they have the same blood type, Erik's got it all figured out.

 

"Charles." Erik said, sitting up in his bed at three in the morning. "I've figured it out about Peter. I've connected the dots."

Charles groaned, not bothering to open his eyes as he used his telepathy. "You haven't connected shit."

"I've connected them!" Erik protested. "Peter is my nephew."

"No."

“He is!” Erik insisted. Charles gave up the dream of sleep and sat up as well.

“Then how does he know Marya Maximoff? How is his last name also Maximoff?” Charles asked tiredly.

“I made Marya meet my family,” the next part is quieter as Erik thinks about it, “or at least what was left of them,” he shoots Charles a meaningful glance that Charles probably can’t actually see in the darkness now that Erik thinks about it, then he continues at a normal volume, “when I was married to her. Obviously, something happened to them.” Here, his voice grew quiet again, and ashamed, but he continued. “And no one... in their right mind... would leave me... in charge with their child... so they gave Peter to Marya and she’s been taking care of him.”

Charles stared at Erik in disbelief. Maybe the metal bending megalomaniac *was* delusional. There were so many holes in Erik’s story. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened his mouth again, but he had hesitated too long before speaking.

“You see?” Erik said, eyes wide with excitement. “It’s so obvious! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner!”

Charles groaned, partly due to lack of sleep, partly due to incredulity, but mostly due to Erik’s stupidity.

Erik grinned his big shark smile that Charles usually found so endearing, and inched closer to Charles on the bed. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me how smart I am?” he asked. Charles looked at him, eyebrows raised. He raised to hand to rest it on Erik’s shoulder.

“Erik-” Charles started to say, but the other man had already bent down to kiss the telepath.

Oh, well. In that case. Charles could always talk to Erik later.

 

Later turned out to be in the morning, after Erik and Charles had each had their own cup of coffee.

“Listen, about what I said last night,” Erik began.

Internally, Charles was groaning, but he did his best to hide it from Erik.

“When do you think I should tell Peter?”

Never, Charles thought, not even needing to use his telepathy to know how poorly that would go. The boy was smart, when he chose to be, and he would be sure to let Erik know when he was wrong.

Now, whether or not Peter would tell the truth to Erik was a different story, and Charles really didn’t want to witness that debacle.

But Charles couldn’t say that to Erik. So instead, he decided to lie.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe give it a few weeks. Do you think the boy could figure it out himself?” Charles asked, trying to get Erik to delay.

Erik paused, contemplating his choices. “But he doesn’t know that I know Marya,” he replied, turning to face Charles. “So he might not figure it out like I did.”

Charles shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe he has other clues.” Yeah, Charles thought, like the fact that you’re his dad, Erik, not his fucking uncle.

Erik stared off into space, thinking. Charles could see the gears turning, and he didn’t particularly like the fact that he could see Erik’s gears turning.

This was bound to be an absolute disaster, Charles realized, and he shut his eyes tight as he tried to think of any way, any way at all, to get out of this situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JOIN MY SERVER!!!! - K Rae (https://discord.gg/gd4Exrg)


	5. Chapter 5

“Why does he keep wanting to spend time with me? Literally, less than a month ago, he acted like I was just another kid at school. What changed?”

Charles turned to face the speedster standing in his room, looking anxious in front of him.

He could answer. He really could. But he didn’t want to freak the kid out.

But maybe Peter already knows. So Charles pressed him for more details.

“Would you mind explaining some of your interactions as of late?”

 

**One Month Ago.**

 

“Hey, Erik, would you mind helping me with something?” Peter asked as he stood precariously on the ladder.

Erik barely looked up at him, reading a novel in an armchair.

Peter continued anyways. “I need you to grab that hammer for me. I’d get it myself, but I’d lose this spot because it’s specifically this nail I need to pull, and I know how far, but if I go get it myself, I’ll lose the spot.”

Erik didn’t move.

“Please?”

Without a word, Erik looked up, met Peter’s eyes, and held out his hand. The hammer flew into his grasp, and the metal bender continued holding his arm out for Peter to take it.

“Thanks,” Peter said, but the man didn’t acknowledge him, merely returning to his book.

 

**Three Weeks Ago.**

 

“Hey Erik!” Peter ran into the room. Erik glanced up in mild surprise at the sudden disturbance in his room. Upon seeing the speedster, he relaxed slightly.

“What’s up?” He asked warmly.

“Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to let you know that I finished painting Jubilee’s room. Kurt helped me.”

Erik felt his lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Oh? And is it the right color?”

Peter froze, looking embarrassed. “I… think so? Kurt said it was anyways.”

Erik grinned widely. Peter paused time for a moment and stared. A smile. On his dads face. It was rare and unusual, but there it was; a big shark-like grin, showing every tooth in his dad’s mouth. Peter stared at it longingly and in amazement. He had made his dad smile.

“Hey,” the speedster said compulsively. “You want to help me paint Scott’s room?”

Erik laughed, an open mouth, deep belly, bellowing laugh.

“No thanks, Peter.” He said.

Peter grinned back. “Well, the offer’s always open,” he said, and Erik chuckled.

 

**Two and a Half Weeks Ago.**

 

Peter was dramatically retelling the story of how he got shot to Jubilee and Kurt, who sat on the foot of the hospital bed and offered him Twinkies. They were oohing and ahhing at all the right moments, and Peter was thriving off the attention. Raven sat in the guest chair, watching in amusement as she watched over him and hung out with Hank.

“The bullets were flying everywhere,” he gestured with his bandaged arms. “And there were too many for Jean and Erik to handle, so I ran around them in circles, and I ran and ran and ran, knocking the hundreds of bullets out of the air.”

“Wow,” said Jubilee, leaning forward in her seat. “That sounds hard.”

“I was just electrocuted,” Peter added, pretending to be bashful. Kurt nodded sympathetically.

“And then!” Peter said. “I saw that the bullets were just too many, and I was getting tired. And you know what I saw?” The mutants looked at him eagerly.

“There was a bullet,” Peter said in a hushed, dramatic tone, “Headed straight for Erik’s head!”

 

“What?” a new voice demanded harshly from the doorway.

Peter and the other mutants spun around to see Erik entering the room with Hank.

“There were bullets going to hit everyone,” Peter added hastily, not wanting Erik to think Peter was calling him weak. “That was just the bullet that I noticed.” Erik continued to stare at Peter, with an unrecognizable emotion on his face.

“And then what happened?” Jubilee asked, eyes wide. Peter grimaced, remembering the pain and his stupidity.

“I walked straight into a bullet.” He said. “Because I wasn’t paying attention.” He saw Erik’s expression become even more closed off. “And that slowed me down more, but I just kept going, smacking the bullets away, until I couldn’t anymore.”

“Don’t play hero all the time,” Hank warned, walking over to Raven’s side, holding a clipboard. “Or you’ll end up riddled with bullet holes and bruises.”

“And cracked ribs.” Raven added, taking on a serious tone.

“Who knew bullets could break ribs through bulletproof vests?” Peter said playfully, turning back to Jubilee.

“I knew that.” Erik said sharply, and Raven and Hank nodded. Peter stared at them.

“How was I supposed to know that?” he complained, and through his arms up. He shrunk in on himself and groaned as he jostled his injuries. Jubilee made a sympathetic sound, and Hank took a quick step over to Peter’s hospital bed.

“I get you more ice water, Peter.” Jubilee said. “I hope you get better quickly!” and she bounced off. Peter watched as his sympathetic attention left. He turned to Kurt in dismay.

“How fast does she think bullet wounds heal?” he asked incredulously. Kurt shrugged and teleported away without another word, leaving Peter alone to the wolves.

“Charles thanks you for saving your teammates, but know that once you get better I’m slapping you for being such an idiot,” Raven informed him, and Peter pouted dramatically.

“Come on, what was I supposed to do?” the speedster squawked. “This is unfair!”

Hank started his check-up on the wounded mutant while Raven left the room.

“And then there were three,” Peter said, and then squeaked as Hank place his stethoscope against the speedster’s back. “That’s cold!”

Neither the metalbender nor the doctor said anything. They finished the check-up in awkward silence, and as Hank stood up, Erik finally spoke.

“May I have a moment with Peter?” he asked, voice emotionless. Hank sent the older man a confused look but nodded. He quickly left the room, leaving the two alone. Peter waited in the silence anxiously.

“You got shot because of me,” Erik said finally, and Peter frowned. 

“Actually-” he started.

“It’s my fault.” Erik finally left emotion into his voice, a soft mix of regret and anger.

“Being distracted is my own fault-” Peter tried to interrupt, but Erik cut him off.

“I panicked. I could have made a force-field at any time.” Erik growled, and Peter frowned.

“Don’t you need, like, a quiet surrounding and crazy concentration to do that? That fight ring wasn’t the calmest place to be.” Peter argued, and Erik shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter,”

“Does too.” Peter interjected.

“Does not,” Erik started, and paused. He shook his head, a hint of a bittersweet smile on his lips. “Look at me, arguing like a child.”

“How about we split the blame in half?” Peter suggested. “You blame too many things on yourself anyways.”   
“You sound like Charles,” Erik said.

“You don’t need telepathy to figure a person out.” Peter said, and Erik looked at him carefully.

“You’re very observant.” The metal bender said at last, and Peter shrugged, gently.

“Comes with the super speed. You get a lot of time to yourself to notice the small details,” he admitted. The room fell silent once more, and then Erik stepped forward to pat Peter’s shoulder. Peter gazed up at Erik, eyes filled with emotions.

“You’re a good kid,” Erik said at last, and left the room.

 

**One Week Ago.**

 

The adults of the Xavier mansion stood over Peter’s hospital bed.

“You’re lucky you heal so fast,” Hank huffed.

“You could have died!” Erik snapped.

“What were you thinking?” Charles fretted disapprovingly.

“You just got out of the hospital bed, and now you’re back in it. Nice job, dumbass,” Raven growled, arms crossed.

“You had one job: to finish your healing process. Don’t get into trouble, don’t use your super speed. And what do you do?” Hank raises his clipboard up in exasperation.

“You used your super speed.” Raven lectured.

“You got into trouble,” Charles said, frowning.

“You get shot,” Erik finished, glowering at the hospitalized man.

“Stealing!” Raven added.

“Why would you need to steal? We have everything you could possibly need,” Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “If you needed anything, you could have asked us to add it to the shopping list. Hank could have bought it.”   
“Why am I the one always doing the shopping?” Hank complained, turning to Charles.

“Twinkies! Stealing Twinkies of all things!” Raven shook her head.

“What even are Twinkies?!” Erik shouted.

“It’s a confectionary treat.” Raven explained.

“Who else could do the shopping, Hank? I’m in a wheelchair and Erik’s a Wanted Criminal!” Charles looked confused. “Raven’s a national symbol for mutants, so that leaves you left.”

“No more sugary foods for Peter. Sugar ban then.” Erik growled. “A sugary treat? I can’t believe it!”

“Take Twinkies off the shopping list, Hank,” Charles said distractedly.

“Risking your life for sugar,” Raven got a far-away look in her eyes. “And that isn’t even an innuendo. I’m disappointed in you, Peter.”

“If you had any other mutant power, you would have died. We couldn’t save you, Peter.” Erik stressed, not blinking as his eyes drilled into Peter’s.

“Raven can change forms!” Hank objected.

“Wait, Peter could have died?” Raven turned to the metal bender. “No one told me that. Hank, why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Tell you what?” Hank turned, confused. “You know you can change forms.”   
“Raven can do every other week of shopping, then!” Charles squawked.

“Peter could have died doing something this stupid, and you didn’t think to mention that to me?!” Raven shouted at Hank.

“Not to mention illegal. Do you want to end up like me?” Erik snarled at the silver haired man.

 

“You guys are like my parents, except worse than my mom,” Peter said in dismay, interrupting everyone’s arguments.

“I’m the mom,” Raven said immediately, shifting into Marya Maximoff. Erik stared in shock.

“We know the same Marya Maximoff?” he asked, eyes wide, and Charles turned to him.

“You’re the dad!” he shouted, and then everyone froze except Erik.

Erik’s face was unreadable, but his mouth twisted downward. There was a long silence.

“If me and Raven are the parents,” he said slowly, “does that make you and Hank the uncles or something?” He smiled weakly at his attempt at a joke. The room returned to chaos.

 

“What the fuck?” Raven asked, shocked. She turned to Hank. “He’s that stupid.”

“I forgot he had a child,” Hank admitted quietly.

“Peter doesn’t have any uncles in real life.” Charles said slowly, brain moving faster than his mouth for once.

“Oh?” Erik asked, puzzled.

“This is worse than any family drama television show.” Hank said, face blank.

“Soap opera,” Raven agreed. “I wish I had some popcorn.”   
“I wish I had any type of sugary food,” Peter complained. 

Erik rounded on him. “Your Twinkie ban will never be lifted.” He bared his teeth.

 

Peter groaned. “Just like a dad,” he said weakly, and Erik’s face turned stone cold. He left the room. The others watched him.

“He’s an idiot,” Raven turned to Hank.

“Don’t think you’re not in trouble, Peter Maximoff!” Charles pointed at the speedster.

 

**Five Days Ago.**

 

“Hey Erik!” Peter called cheerfully as Erik entered the medbay. “Come lend me a hand.” Without waiting for a reply, the speedster began to push himself to his feet, eager to leave his bed. Erik darted over quickly to help the silver haired mutant.

“What are you thinking?” Erik demanded, even as he continued to help Peter shuffle for the door to the medbay. “Hank said you had two more days left before you could leave. Do you want to anger him? He can force you to stay longer.”   
“I’m bored,” Peter complained, taking the familiar path to the kitchen. “And I want Twinkies.”

“I thought we banned sugar,” Erik protested, and tried to pull Peter to a stop, but the mutant forged on. Worried that he might yank the speedster off balance, Erik reluctantly gave up the fight, and instead followed the younger man into the kitchen, hovering like a parent on the first day of school.

“That was before Hank realized that I needed all those calories for healing,” Peter stuck out his tongue at the metal bender and rummaged through the cupboards.

“He said you needed more vitamins and that he was going to design fancy protein shakes for you, and that you could actually lay off the sugar,” Erik frowned, and Peter pouted as he pulled out a single Twinkie.

“We’re still out of Twinkies,” he whined, and shot Erik an annoyed look as he registered what the man had said. “Hank’s protein shakes are disgusting abominations.” Hank chose that moment to walk into the kitchen.

“I’m working on the taste,” Hank said, offended, and Peter made a fake gagging sound.

“Working on making them taste worse!” 

Hank sighed, and walked past Peter to reach the fridge. As he passed by, he plucked the Twinkie free from Peter’s grasp. Peter made a sound similar to a mother whose child was being taken away.

“My Twinkie!” he screeched, and Hank ignored him as he opened the fridge door.

“I knew when I saw the medbay was empty he’d come here,” Hank said conversationally to Erik as he pulled out a shake for Peter. “It’s lunchtime, and he’s trying to avoid me.”

Peter hissed like a cat at the sight of the shake, he started to bolt for the door, but Erik held out his hand, and a metal chair, meant for one particularly destructive young mutant, flew over to block the doorway. Hank shook his head.

“I give up,” he said. He pushed the shake across the table towards Erik. “You deal with him.”

Continuing to shake his head, Hank left the kitchen.

Erik turned to face Peter. It had been a while since he had spent time with the speedster, who had probably saved his life many times, and besides, how hard could it possibly be?

 

**Two Days Ago.**

 

“Erik!” someone shouted, and Erik, who was lurking by his favorite tree outside in Charles’ backyard, turned and was promptly met with a water balloon. He stood to his feet, shaking the water off, and turned to face the perpetrator. It was Peter, who was laughing like crazy, and completely oblivious to Raven approaching with her own water balloon behind the speedster.

Erik allowed himself to grin when Peter let out a high-pitched shriek of surprise, and he looked at the blue mutant.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to join in on such childish games,” he greeted her, and Raven snorted. 

“You’re on my team, the water balloons are by the front steps. Let’s drench these kids,” she turned her back to the metal bender and ran for more water balloons. Erik followed her, keeping an eye out for more children or a silver haired mutant looking for revenge.

 

Peter watched Erik grab water balloons and use some impressive tactics to hit the other X-Men, feeling a fond smile on his face. Not even a month earlier, and PEter was pretty sure that if they had asked Erik to join in on a water balloon fight, the older man would have refused.

Charles wheeled his way to the front door.

“Now, what’s all this commotion?” he started to say, tone friendly, when Erik grabbed a water balloon and pelted the unsuspecting man right in the face. Everyone froze to watch. Charles wiped the water off his face, surprised, then grinned. “Hank!” He shouted. “Avenge me!” The bespectacled mutant, already letting his blue self out, stepped outside, passing a towel to the grateful professor, and picked up an empty bucket. Though the water balloons inside had long since been taken, there was still plenty of water inside. 

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Hank informed Erik, who was slowly backing away.

“That’s cheating!” The metal bender argued, and yet made no real effort to save himself as Hank splashed him.

Peter watched, grinning, unaware of Raven approaching him again. His new shriek of shock caused Erik to glance over in amusement.

“This isn’t fair!” The speedster complained. “I’m still injured.”

“Not that injured, or I wouldn’t have let you out of the medbay,” Hank retorted, high-fiving Raven. Peter turned to face Erik.

“They’re teaming up!” He yelped. Erik grinned and passed him a water balloon.

“So we form new teams,” He replied, throwing a perfectly-aimed water balloon straight at Hank’s glasses. It was a direct hit, that sent the glasses tumbling away. Erik levitated them over to Charles’ lap, who held them, smiling.

“Get them!” Peter howled, and darted off quickly being mindful enough to not jump into superspeed so people could still hit him. Erik grinned and followed.

 

**Thirty Minutes Ago.**

 

Peter was working on his homework that was assigned by Charles. As a member of the X-Men, he technically had to stay at the school, and therefore was a student. Peter complained bitterly when Charles informed him he had to take classes. The high school dropout avoided every class he could, except for Charles’ english class, only because Charles had perfected his kicked-puppy look.

So now Peter was struggling with his homework, when Erik burst into the room excitedly.

“What are you doing?” Erik asked quickly. Peter frowned at his enthusiasm.

“Working on homework,” he explained dejectedly. Erik leaned forward eagerly.

“Need any help?” Peter frowned. “No thanks?” It sounded like a question. Erik’s smile instantly faltered, and wow, Erik could look like  a kicked puppy too when he wanted.

“I mean, that is,” Peter fumbled. “I’m having a little difficulty…” Erik perked up immediately. 

“Great!” he entered Peter’s room and quickly sat down next to Peter on his bed. He peered over at Peter’s homework, and fell silent. Peter glanced at Erik’s face to see that it was blank, maybe even a little confused. Peter internally grimaced.

“If you don’t know it, that’s okay,” He started to say, but Erik shook his head wildly.

“No no,” the metal bender said quickly. “I’ve got this. So sentence patterns…”

 

**Present**

 

“I see,” Charles responded once Peter finished talking. “Seems like he wants to spend time with you.”

“No shit, Sherlock! I just don’t know why!”

“Well, do you have any ideas why? Has Erik said anything to you?”

Peter suddenly turns pale. Charles doesn’t even need to use his telepathy to know what thought just crossed his mind.

“Well…” Peter trailed off.

Charles shrugged. “Maybe he’s come to a conclusion of his own on that regard.”

Peter’s eyes snapped to Charles. “You know?”

Charles nodded.

“Does he know?” Peter asked, panicked.

“Well,” Charles winced. “Not exactly. But you’ll see soon enough.”

“What does that mean?”

Charles didn't reply, he just rolled away as fast as he could.  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Peter was out of bed around midnight when it happened. What exactly happened, he isn’t sure. All he knew was that he was the only awake when it happened. And he really does mean only one awake.

He was having a midnight snack in the kitchen when he glanced out the window and saw Magneto flying away very slowly.

“What?” he said stupidly, watching Magneto drift across the sky like a snail. Then he tried to slip out of superspeed mode, because there was no way Magneto was flying that slowly in real time.

Except he wasn’t in super speed. He walked outside to the front door, taking his sweet time. He stepped outside and Magneto was still there. He had only flown about two feet forward.

 

“Hey Erik!” he shouted up at the man. “What are you doing?”

Erik didn’t reply. Peter tried again. “I said, hey Erik!” Silence. “Erik!”

 

Magneto drifted forwards.

“Hey, it’s rude to ignore people!” Peter slipped into super speed and went into Erik’s room. He sped past a sleeping Charles and leaned out of the window. If he had a broom, he’d be able to lean forward and maybe smack Erik with it.

“Hey!” he shouted loudly. Erik didn’t turn.

 

Behind him, Charles murmured in his sleep, “I said bring me more toilet paper…” Peter turned, distracted.

“What did you just say?” He turned back around. Erik had drifted out of broom smacking range. “Darn."

 

He watched Erik drift away for a moment, then realized Erik was flying directly towards a tree. He sped over to the tree and climbed it. Arriving at the tree, Peter realized he probably shouldn’t have used his super speed to get over there. He would now have to wait longer than he wanted to for Erik to float by.

Peter groaned, rolling his eyes at himself. Time to wait fifteen minutes for Erik to be back in broom-smacking range.

He chose to spend the time wisely, maneuvering himself in the best spot to smack Erik, which happened to be the edge of a branch. Peter didn’t use his super speed this time, and he proceeded to spend much of his waiting time on congratulating himself on not being super dumb this time.

The rest of the time Peter spent staring down at the pond beneath him, daydreaming as he watched the moonlight ripple over the surface, creating mesmerizing, quicksilver patterns.

Heh, quicksilver.

  
  


Finally, Erik arrived. Peter clenched his jaw as he balanced on the branch precariously. He didn’t really want to fall into the lake. At this time of night, it would probably be really cold, and Peter didn’t actually want to think about it.

That's when Peter realized Erik's eyes were closed. The man was drifting through the air, arms out dramatically, with his eyes shut tight. His face was oddly peaceful, which was the real thing that tipped Peter off that something was wrong.

"Uh, Erik?" Peter tried again, now confused. Erik didn't reply. His face didn't so much as twitch.

So Peter really did mean only one awake for The Incident, because Erik was sleep walking. Or rather, sleep flying? And Peter guessed, okay, maybe The Incident was his fault. But it was an accident! He was just trying to wake Erik up!

So maybe Peter smacked Erik with the broom. Erik had no right to drop like a stone, into the lake, and start sinking. And finally, finally! Erik opened his eyes. And panicked. Peter realized he might be watching his father drown.

So, Peter did the reasonable thing and jumped into the lake after him.

And yikes was that water  _ freezing _ . Colder than he thought it would be! He spluttered, limbs flailing as it occurred to him too late that his mother, not wanting to bring her rowdy, unnatural child with her to public places, had never really taught him how to swim. He sank a bit, holding his breath once his head fell beneath the surface, dropping through the water like a stone until he reached Erik, who in his panic, had inhaled water. He snatched his father’s arm and kicked furiously. His superspeed propelled the two of them out of the water, where Peter ran on the surface of the pond, zooming back into the mansion. He set Erik down in the medbay and then ran to Hank’s room.

 

“Hank!” he shouted, slipping out of superspeed. “Hank! Wake up! It’s an emergency!”

Hank sat upright, as did Raven beside him. Neither were wearing shirts. Peter shrieked, covering his eyes.

“Holy shit!” he cried. “What the fuck!”

“What the fuck, you!” Raven replied immediately, then her eyes narrowed. “There’s an emergency?”

“Medical emergency,” Peter shifted back on track, still covering his eyes. “I’m begging you, put on a shirt.”

“I never wear a shirt,” Raven snarked back as Hank, flushing, scrambled for clothes.

“Why are you wet?” Hank asked, as if realizing only now.

“I was pulling someone out of the lake,” Peter replied, reluctant to say who. Hank would find out anyways, but its basically fact around the mansion that the pair had never gotten along, and suddenly Peter is anxious for no good reason.  _ What if Hank would refuse to help Erik? No, he’s a doctor, he wouldn’t _ , he told himself.

He dragged Hank down to the medbay the moment the man was finished getting dressed.

 

Magneto turned out to be fine. What a jerk, scaring Peter like that. Honestly. It was as if Peter was the dad in this scenario.

 

As Peter sat next to Erik’s hospital bed, he wondered why Charles looked guilty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Krae doesn't work on the chapter they specifically said they'd work on >:///  
> -fairy


End file.
